


Pastel Reaper, Edgy Angel

by NyannyCat_13



Series: Stories a Story has Yet to Read [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emo, Enemies to Friends, Gen, I Tried, Matter of Life and Death, Pastels, Personality Swap, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22674484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyannyCat_13/pseuds/NyannyCat_13
Summary: Based on the writing prompt, "Life and Death are neighbors, but their after-work hours show their true sides: Death's furniture is overly plus and bright colors, a total softy, and Life is a goth punk who drives race cars after dark. death owns a big soft fluffy cat, and Life has a grumpy skeletal animal of some sort. They are also best friends since childhood."The slice-of-life is only implied.
Series: Stories a Story has Yet to Read [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630840
Kudos: 4





	Pastel Reaper, Edgy Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot that they were supposed to like each other. and the whole slice-of-life thing.

All it took was one meeting for both to thrive.

When Life was "born," she was born with the birth of a planet. Even before a creature had been developed, she was there. Soon she found a new being. Not even a plant yet, but a form of ancient species. She became attached as it swam around in the ocean, and grew giddy once she learned that with just a swish of her hand, she could bring the existence of more. As more forms popped up, as an ecosystem grew into plants, then little scuttling creatures, she felt herself grow happier and happier.

One day there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned, and saw a little girl, just as little as herself. The girl had long black hair and inky eyes, a complete 180 on the wavy auburn locks and calm green eyes she saw when she stared into the water. The girl gave a little wave.

"Who are you?" Life asked.

The girl shrugged. "I dunno. I was made with the word Death in my mind."

"Oh, that happened to me, too! I think we call ourselves that. My word was Life!"

At that, they both looked out into the ocean.

"I was called here for something . . ."

"Hmm?" Life turned and watched as Death stood up and walked to the shore. A little creature was struggling and making little noises as a strange substance floated out into the sea.

Death, in a trance, bent down and picked up the creature. But her hands phased through the creature, picking up a lightened version, who chirped happily. The one on the ground grew silent.

Curious and worried for the creature in the water, Life crept over "What did you do? Is it sleeping?" 

"No. It ended." Death smiled a little at the lightened creature, then let go of it. It didn't fall, hovering for a second before disappearing. "I think it's gone somewhere now."

Life was still staring at the body. "But when will it wake up again?"

"I don't think it will."

"B-but then why did you do that? That's not fair!"

"It wasn't happy. I took it out so it would be happy. I'm sorry."

They fought, and then Life started crying, and then so did Death. They cried for a bit, and when they calmed down, they sat back and stared at the burning lights in the sky.

"I was made from the beginning of this world," said Life out of a whim.

"I was made from the end of a sun," replied Death.

"It's still not fair. You're not fair."

"Well, neither are you!"

They bickered again and left the island at the same time.

Time passed. Life and death grew and changed and became. Life on the planet developed and evolved. Death became necessary for the lives that continue. They needed each other. They hated each other.

As they lived on a planet that was slowly becoming aware of their existence, they had to blend in. Life lived in the darkness, in a long intersecting cave, and hated Death for ruining her creations. Death lived in the sunlight, near a bright, gorgeous meadow, and thought Life selfish for prolonging the lives of her creations and causing them harm. The times they saw each other were spent arguing about whether that life should be taken or not.

"The child needs a mother!"

"The child is already too sick to live! They'll leave together."

"Why do you want things to end so much?! It's barely been alive an hour!"

"Why do you want things to hurt so much?! Look, it's crying out in pain!"

And the world grew again. Some spirits couldn't disappear, made to wander until they found the peace to move on. Minds grew smart, and gave everything they saw a purpose. The purpose to grow, the purpose to eat, the purpose to clothe, the purpose to attract a mate.

The purpose to live. The purpose to die.

Their names were found, their purposes made clear. And they hated themselves as much as each other. What was the point of making life if death would just scoop it up when the time arrived? What was the point of death if all it caused was pain and forgetfulness? 

Death found safety in stuffed animals. She couldn't end the lives of her toys. She began to dress cutesy, like a pastel doll, turning her hair into a pink, purple, turquoise mess. She wanted to feel like she wasn't a threat for once, like she wasn't a bad ending. Like her actions didn't cause people to hate and hurt, and grow cold and miserable. Like she wasn't a monster like all the stories said. She loved the people who saw her and smiled. Her cat, Pocky (short for Apocalypse, if anyone asked), was a special little cat. He took a fondness to Death, and when he was scooped out of his body and into her arms for the first time, he decided to stay. He was good company, much needed when Death was upset.

Life found safety in the darkness. A part of her was torn wide open, seeing how every life she gave cried at some point. How so many lifes burned themselves away, cried alone in their rooms, let ear-splitting screaming matches decide their future. It was her fault, after all. She found safety in the moon. It was eternal, it would never die. She found out how darkness and leather and piercing make-up put a tough exterior onto her, helped her stay calm as she watched from the sidelines as a baby cried for the first time. Her pet crow, Acid (short for Ascension, if anyone asked), was a special little crow. He was a bit of a brat, and his prolonged exposure to Life had given him a lifespan that just kept growing. He was mean, but he was also sweet when he wanted to be.

They refused to even look at each other, childhood hatred never forgotten. Even when they found themselves in the same apartment, they hated each other one the initial shock wore off. They despised each other. They complained about each other. It was never enough to simply dislike each other. It was a violent, burning hatred. They would never make up.

Until Life stopped doing her job, that is. Until she left, that is.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I won't add another story to my 10+ pile, you're dead wrong.
> 
> This series boutta get long, lemme tell you.


End file.
